


Closure's Over-Rated

by ancilla89



Series: Learning to Live Again [3]
Category: Blue Bloods (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Episode: s09e01 Playing with Fire, Episode: s09e19 Common Enemies, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:16:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28801944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancilla89/pseuds/ancilla89
Summary: The helicopter crash hadn't been an accident, and Danny doesn't know how to deal with that.AKA: his hunt for Delgado.
Series: Learning to Live Again [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2114742
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

He ditched both his paperwork and his partner after the hunt for Delgado ended in taunting by live-feed, and the GPS tracker on the damn dog.

He hadn’t seen Doc since the anniversary of Linda’s death, but his options were either talk to Doc or drink himself into a coma; so he peeled out of the precinct parking-lot.

He made the drive on auto-pilot, checked the time again. Quarter after 7. Doc should still be in the office.

He knocked, steadied himself on the wall.

“Danny, I didn’t expect to see you. Come in.”

He shook his head, cursing when the room spun. “It wasn’t an accident. The helicopter crash. Delgado just confessed. The cartel…ordered a hit. On my wife.”

“I’m so sorry…”

If one more person said “I’m sorry” he was going to kill them. He punched the door, cursing when it bounced back.

A hand on his shoulder had him striking out.

Doc ducked, and his fist made contact with the wall. His knuckles were bleeding.

_Helicopter blades whirring…”Where were you May 28?”…”there was an accident”…_

Words were coming at him, and he was standing in the doorway of Doc’s office.

Doc had his hands up. “Detective Reagan, you need to calm down. I’m not the enemy here. You’re safe. Your boys are safe.”

“Linda was murdered,” he whispered.

“Tell me what happened.”

He stumbled across the room and collapsed into a chair. “I…can’t.”

He was shaking, exhausted, all the anger suddenly gone.

The whirr of the Keurig, then a cup of hot cocoa was in his hands. He tried to take a sip, but his hands were shaking too hard, and scalding hot cocoa splashed onto his pants.

He didn’t flinch.

“The crash wasn’t an accident. Linda was murdered.”

The room was spinning, the walls closing in on him, his own voice screaming her name….

And the world went black.

*

Machines were beeping, and he sat up, dizzy. “Take it easy, Danny.”

“Dad, what are you doing here? Why am I in the hospital?”

“What do you remember?”

“Going to Doc to tell him what Delgado said; then…nothing.”

“Dr. Dawson said you fainted. You didn’t eat Sunday dinner; Sean says you haven’t been home for any meals since; Detective Baez said you’ve been living on coffee and refusing every offer of food.”

“Doesn’t sound like me. I had breakfast just this…” He frowned, trying to remember. “I can’t stay here, I need to go find Delgado.”

“He’s in the wind.”

“The helicopter…Linda…it …wasn’t an accident, and he knows who put a hit out on Linda. We have to get him.”

“And we will. But not like this. You need to take care of yourself first. On that note…”

His dad walked out, and Dr. Dawson walked in.

Danny punched the mattress half-heartedly. “So now my family is calling my shrink for me? Seriously?”

“Actually, I called them after I called 911.” Doc held up a paper bag. “Eat your Jell-O, keep it down, and then you can have this sandwich.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“They’re not gonna release you until you eat.”

He sighed, opened the container of green Jell-O.

“I need to be out there finding the SOB who murdered my wife, not…sitting in here eating Jell-O.”

“No way in hell is your boss letting you work the case.”

“No way in hell am I sitting this one out.” He took a bite of Jell-O. “Linda was murdered…because I was trying to take down a drug cartel.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

He threw the Jell-O at Doc. “It was my fault! I confiscated $18 million in drug money, and they torched my house, and killed my wife, as payback. That. Makes. It. My. Fault.”

He threw the sheets off, swung his legs out of the bed.

“Where are you going? You need to stay here until they take out your IV.”

He ripped out the IV, grabbed his clothes off a chair, and hoped he wouldn’t have to knock down any family members to complete his escape.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: The scenes in 9x07 that sparked this story were 1) Danny doesn’t eat Sunday dinner—his plate remains empty for the duration of the meal—because he’s so upset Delgado is walking around free, and 2) Danny’s face when Delgado reveals the accident wasn’t an accident**.

He ducked into a bathroom, changed, and left the hospital gown on the door.

He was taking the stairs—figured he’d run into fewer people who’d try to stop his escape—when he nearly collided with Sean. “Where are you going, Dad?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Keeping you from getting yourself killed!”

“Sean, I need to get back to work.”

“Dad, you’re gonna get killed if you leave like this. And me and Jack will be orphans. Please don’t!”

“I need to go find the SOB who…” He stopped. This wasn’t really the time or place.

“Grandpa told me…the helicopter accident wasn’t an accident. But, please, Dad!”

Kid was close to tears, and Danny sank down onto a step, dizzy and suddenly exhausted. “Tell me what happened, and this nonsense about me not eating.”

“You didn’t eat Sunday dinner, and then you went back to work, and now it’s Wednesday, and you’ve only come home for a shower once. Please, Dad!”

“I need to catch the bastard.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Dad! Please let them take care of you! Jack…Jack's coming home for Thanksgiving; he’ll be here soon.”

“What time is it?” Danny asked, suddenly realizing he didn’t have his phone or his wallet, so his escape plans weren’t going to work.

“10 a.m. Wednesday. You fainted last night.”

“Sorry I scared you,” he whispered.

“Please go back to the room, Dad. You know what Mom would say if she were here and you were trying to escape.”

He stood, shaky. “What are you doing here, anyway? Thought you’d be in the waiting room with the rest of them.”

“I was tired of sitting still.”

He followed Sean back to the room, lay down, and pulled the covers over his head.

**

He startled awake when they brought his lunch tray in, groaned when he saw Doc sitting there. “Usually the only people in the room when I’m in the hospital are named Reagan.”

“Sorry to disappoint. Ready for that sandwich?”

He shrugged, uncovered his lunch tray. Jell-O and soup. He sighed and pushed it away. “If I eat it, will they release me so I can get back to work?”

Doc handed over the sandwich. “If you keep it down and get some liquids into you, they will think about releasing you. But you’re on sick leave the rest of the week.”

He stopped mid-bite. “Seriously?”

“Your dad’s call. Don’t make me make it an official recommendation as your therapist.”

“Why would you do that? I’m not suicidal; I’m not a danger to myself or anyone else, Doc!”

“You just found out your wife was murdered. You need to take some time to process that, so you don’t take your anger and grief out on people who don’t deserve it.”

Now he’d lost his appetite…again. He put the sandwich on the bed, tugged on his IV. “Most of the people I sucker-punch on the job, do deserve it. I need to find Delgado.”

“Your dad and the DEA have had people looking for him—they can’t find him. He’s in the wind. He’ll turn up when he wants to turn up.”

“So now you’re an expert on criminal masterminds?”

“I know human psychology, Danny. Enough about me, and Delgado. How are you feeling?”

“You seriously want to do a session now?”

“You’ve got an IV in your arm, and your partner’s outside the door with orders to cuff you if you try to escape again; you’re not going anywhere. And again, you just found out Linda was murdered. You need to talk about this.”

He shook his head. “All you ever want to do is talk. How the hell is that gonna help? Linda was murdered. There’s no…’processing’ that.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

He threw the tissue box at Doc. “It should have been me!”

“How would that have helped? The boys are motherless; if it had been you, they’d be fatherless. How is that any better?”

“Because they expected it with me—Sean said as much! He asked why it was Linda, not me! Because I’m the one with a dangerous job! If the cartel wanted to hurt me, then they should have killed me. Not Linda.”

“But the way to hurt you the most, was just that: to go after your family.”

“I should have kept her safe.”

“You didn’t know they were going to come after Linda.”

He shook his head, winced when it pounded. He needed coffee. “I’ve worked these cases before. I should have known.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“It _was_ my fault! Even my dad said as much when the house was torched: they came after me because I hurt them, and I hurt them because it’s my job. By that logic, the house was my fault, the fire was my fault, and Linda was my fault!”

He threw the covers off, ready to storm out.

“Detective Baez will cuff you if you leave this room. I wouldn’t test her if I were you.”

He sighed, sank back onto the pillow, and kicked the mattress. "Dammit, Doc!"

“You’re misinterpreting the point your dad was trying to make, Danny. What the cartel did to you in retaliation for you doing your job…is on them, not you. It’s their fault, not yours.”

He rolled his eyes. “Semantics.”

“No, it’s not. You need to accept that none of this was your fault.”

“Linda was murdered. She was my _wife!_ I should have kept her safe,” he whispered.

He pushed his lunch tray away, turned his back to Doc, lay down, and cursed a blue streak in his head to keep from crying himself to sleep.


End file.
